One Short Sleep Past
by LifeIndeed
Summary: There's a chance this whole reincarnation thing, which Arthur's been complaining about the past few centuries, could be resolved: through Morgana. AKA Merlin and Arthur go on a feelsy bromantic rollercoaster. One-shot, mostly dialogue.


**A/N: A retry on a drabble I kind of failed at, first time. I've changed it so much I decided to just repost the whole thing. Here's to hoping this version's better! (Review pretty please!)**

**Title comes from this part of the poem, "Death be not Proud," by John Donne:**

"Thou'rt slave to fate chance kings and desperate men

And dost with poison war and sickness dwell;

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past we wake eternally

And Death shall be no more: Death thou shalt die!"

* * *

[Knock on the door. Merlin opens it and Arthur walks in.]

ARTHUR: Hey.  
MERLIN: You-you're back.  
ARTHUR: [shrugs] Yeah. I'm back. [They share a grin.]

[An hour or so later.]

MERLIN: [Washing lunch dishes.] What reminded you, this time?  
ARTHUR: Flames—that is, I was looking at them. Not sure why that did it, but.  
MERLIN: You can sit down, if you want.  
ARTHUR: Yeah, thanks.

[After Merlin finishes and wipes his hands dry.]

MERLIN: Care for a drink?  
ARTHUR: Not really in the mood, no.  
MERLIN: Right then. [Small silence, neither really looking at the other.] So. What did—  
ARTHUR: The dream was different, this time around.

[Merlin looks up, surprised.]

MERLIN: How?  
ARTHUR: Morgana.  
MERLIN: Morgana . . . she was mentioned again?  
ARTHUR: Not just mentioned. I saw her face.  
MERLIN: Oh.  
ARTHUR: Not just saw, even. I looked, and she was happy. She, she looked. Well, _good_.

MERLIN: [Shrugs.] Maybe it means we'll see her this time.  
ARTHUR: Maybe. Or what I saw means its over—she's done with this whole business.  
MERLIN: [Raises an eyebrow.] You mean, not coming back?  
ARTHUR: Yeah. Something like that. Like her cycle is over . . . after this . . . she gets to move on.

[Merlin notices Arthur's expression.]

MERLIN: You okay?  
ARTHUR: She shouldn't get that. She doesn't _deserve_ it.  
MERLIN: Doesn't deserve death? Isn't that what you wanted?  
ARTHUR: Back in the day. Before I knew that living more lives, again and again, was worse.  
MERLIN: But you keep going, keep progressing—  
ARTHUR: I don't expect _you_ to understand, Merlin.

[The words ring into the silence that follows.]

ARTHUR: I'm sorry. It—it's not your fault. I know that.  
MERLIN: No, Arthur, it is. Don't say it isn't.

ARTHUR: You're just as condemned as the rest of us. You keep going, but you don't even get a full arc of life. You haven't changed since I first laid eyes on you, not since my prat days.

[Merlin is quiet for a while.]

MERLIN: [Finally looking up.] Prat days?  
ARTHUR: Yeah. Well—what would you call them?  
MERLIN: Hmm. More like, royal clotpole days.

[Further into the evening, Arthur looking through Merlin's magazines.]

MERLIN: Found Gwen?  
ARTHUR: Hmm? [Doesn't look up.]  
MERLIN: Gwen? Found her, this time around?

ARTHUR: Yeah. [Eyes still down.]

MERLIN: Oh. Was she with—  
ARTHUR: Yeah.

[Around dinnertime. Arthur's lounging on the couch.]

MERLIN: What are you in the mood for?  
ARTHUR: Hmm. A way to rest in peace?  
MERLIN: [Rolls his eyes.] What food, Arthur, _food_. When did you get so dramatic?  
ARTHUR: [Shrugs.] Not sure, actually. Maybe it was the 16th century.

[Hours later. Merlin's asleep in his room.]

ARTHUR: Merlin? Merlin? [Shaking him urgently.]  
MERLIN: Wha...? Alright, I'm awake, I'm awake. Arthur, what the hell?  
ARTHUR: [Peering down from above him.] Sorry, but it can't wait.  
MERLIN: Unngh... Fine. But—get off me, will you?  
ARTHUR: [Realizing he's crushing Merlin.] Oh. Sorry.

[A minute later, Merlin half-awake and more than half-annoyed, leaning against the counter crossly. Arthur paces in front of him.]

MERLIN: Now, what is it?  
ARTHUR: We should find Morgana.  
MERLIN: We should . . .? But what's the point? Isn't she going to fire at our heads like she always does?  
ARTHUR: Not always. Back in the 20's, she threw a shoe.  
MERLIN: She was drunk.  
ARTHUR: Beside the point. She doesn't _always_ try to kill us.  
MERLIN: And you're curious to find out about this time _because_ . . . ?

{Arthur stops pacing. Stares at Merlin, with an almost haunted look.]

ARTHUR: Merlin. She looked happy. _Good_.  
MERLIN: And you think that's why her cycle is done.  
ARTHUR: It's got to be.  
MERLIN: So?  
ARTHUR: So maybe if we talk to her, she'll tell us how.  
MERLIN: Tell _you_ how. It doesn't work the same for me, remember.  
ARTHUR: Okay, fine. Me. But still, it's somewhere to start.

[Merlin says nothing for some time, despite Arthur's piercing gaze.]

MERLIN: Why are you so intent on stopping it, this time?  
ARTHUR: Why, miss me, would you?

[Merlin turns, his back to Arthur. It was obviously not the right thing to say.]

ARTHUR: _Merlin._ Look—I, I'd miss you too. Why do you think I find you again, as soon as I remember?

MERLIN: I'm really tired, Arthur. [Still turned from him, face hidden.] Can the rest wait till the morning?

[The shiny, bright May morning after. In the kitchen.]

ARTHUR: Good morning.  
MERLIN: [Rubbing at his eyes.] Yeah. Hi.  
ARTHUR: About last night-  
MERLIN: We can go find Morgana. S'fine by me.  
ARTHUR: Really. Alright. Great. [A little taken aback by Merlin's sudden consent.] Well, she was in some, fancy-ish building. Like a company.  
MERLIN: That's it?  
ARTHUR: What do you mean?  
MERLIN: "Fancy company building" doesn't really give us much to go off, does it.  
ARTHUR: I hadn't finished. I recognized it—I've been there before.  
MERLIN: Another of Daddy's big empires?

ARTHUR: Yeah, actually.  
MERLIN: Oh.  
ARTHUR: I'll just call him up, ask him for a reference or something. [Merlin nods.]

[Phone Conversation]:

Good morning, Father.  
_Arthur. Enjoying your vacation I hope?_  
Sorry about the short notice.  
_Right._  
I have a question for you. About someone, actually.  
_I hope you're going to be more specific?  
_Her name's Morgana?  
_Oh. Yes, I know her. She works for us.  
_I need her personal information.  
_Honestly, Arthur, if you want to ask the girl out, ask the girl out-_  
Nothing like that. Just her address. I . . . want to send her a thank you.  
_Wouldn't a short email suffice?  
_No.  
_Ah. I see, it's _that _bad. Hope she forgives you._  
Wait—Dad—  
_I'm sending it to you._

ARTHUR: He hung up on me.  
MERLIN: [Immediately brightening up.] So, no go?  
ARTHUR: Why do you sound so hopeful? He's sending it to me.  
MERLIN: Oh. Sending _it_ as in . . . ?  
ARTHUR: Her address.  
MERLIN: So we're storming into her home, then?  
ARTHUR: No, Merlin. We're making a house call.

[Later that morning in Merlin's car, after some horrible directions and equally horrible fast food.]

MERLIN: This is a really bad idea [parking across the street from the house].  
ARTHUR: You're just worried she'll shoot you.  
MERLIN: That's actually one of the last things I'm worried about.  
ARTHUR: I don't see why. You have nearly died before.  
MERLIN: Yeah, _before_. Now it's not an issue anymore.  
ARTHUR: You mean with Morgana, or at all?  
MERLIN: Can we please just watch the house silently?

[An hour of boring watch and wait.]

ARTHUR: That's her! [Practically jumps out of the car.]  
MERLIN: [Pulling him by the sleeve.] I _know_ that's her, dollophead.  
ARTHUR: [Grabs handy-dandy binoculars.] She's leaving her car; she's walking up the steps-  
MERLIN: Can you please put those away?  
ARTHUR: -She didn't see us, she's gone inside! Let's go! [Books it out of the car.]

MERLIN: Right. You're oddly into this espionage thing lately.

[The door opens a minute after Arthur knocks. Morgana is on the other side, shocked clearly at the sight of them. Especially Merlin.]

MERLIN: Morgana- [She starts closing the door.]  
ARTHUR: [Wedging his foot in the way.] Wait!  
MORGANA: Get your shoe out of my door, Arthur.  
ARTHUR: Morgana, wait, don't—  
MORGANA: You've ruined everything. _Everything_.  
MERLIN: What do you—  
ARTHUR: [She slams the door.] _OW!_

[10 minutes later, sitting side by side on Morgana's front stoop.]

MERLIN: How's your foot?  
ARTHUR: Alright, thanks.

MERLIN: So. That went well.  
ARTHUR: I know you're being sarcastic, but I actually agree with that statement. She didn't pull out an assault rifle on us, after all.  
MERLIN: Maybe she doesn't _have_ one. Or a musket. Or a crossbow. Or, whatever else she's ever used on us the past few centuries.

ARTHUR: Like that Swiss Army Knife.  
MERLIN: Oh yeah. That was a bad year—er, life, I guess, for you.  
ARTHUR: Not the best ending, I suppose. Came back with some of the scars for two lives after it, actually.

MERLIN: What now?  
ARTHUR: Now, we wait.  
MERLIN: What, until she _does_ bring out a Swiss Army Knife?

ARTHUR: Maybe I have a feeling.  
MERLIN: A feeling?  
ARTHUR: Yeah, like intuition. I _am_ the one who gets the dream every time.  
MERLIN: Or maybe you're just a persistent idiot.  
ARTHUR: That's your title, Merlin, not mine.

ARTHUR: What do you think she meant, about the whole "you ruined everything" bit?  
MERLIN: Maybe she was really enjoying not seeing your sorry face.  
ARTHUR: _My_ sorry face? Let's be clear—

[The door opens.]

MORGANA: [Both turn.] Please get off my porch.  
MERLIN: Morgana!  
ARTHUR: Please, we just want to-  
MORGANA: I don't care what you want. Whatever it is, you're not getting anything from me.  
ARTHUR: Wait—I had a dream about you-  
MORGANA: How flattering. Go.  
ARTHUR: -This is important-  
MORGANA: To who? You, Merlin?  
MERLIN: No. Well, yes. Arthur just thinks-  
ARTHUR: -that you're doing something right. Ending it. [He might have said the right thing.]

[A few minutes later, in Morgana's sitting room] :

MERLIN: You look good.  
MORGANA: Well sit down, would you?  
MERLIN: Oh! Yeah, sorry.

ARTHUR: So. I have this dream, a really strange one, basically every time I start over again, and-  
MORGANA: Please get to the point, Arthur.  
ARTHUR: I _am_. It usually just directs me to wherever Merlin is, where he's living at the time, but this time—this time it showed me you. Your life.  
MORGANA: Am I supposed to be pleased?  
ARTHUR: I just got this feeling. Like it was over for you—this whole reliving business, I mean.

MORGANA: You were right.  
ARTHUR: I was—really? _Brilliant_! Tell me, do you know-  
MORGANA: I said you _were _right, Arthur. Not anymore.

ARTHUR:_ What_?  
MERLIN: What do you mean?  
MORGANA: What I said. I figured it out, but it doesn't matter this time, not now.  
ARTHUR: Why _not_? If you figured it out-  
MORGANA: It's Merlin, Arthur. It's Merlin.

MERLIN: What are you talking about?  
MORGANA: Merlin is why we keep getting reborn, Arthur-  
ARTHUR: I _know_ that. But it was an accident. The Cailleach . . .  
MERLIN: I'm so sorry, Morgana. Honestly, I-  
MORGANA: Stop it. Listen, both of you. I've been watching my other friends fade, stop reincarnating, for centuries. I kept wondering why—like maybe it was just because of the minor roles they played. That I would never stop, not ever. But that wasn't it.  
ARTHUR: What is it, then? What did they do?

MORGANA: It's simple, really. Not one of them had either spoken to, or even _recalled_, Merlin.

MERLIN: Me?  
ARTHUR: _Him_?  
MORGANA: Yes, you. Honestly, have either of you ever known anyone else named Merlin?  
ARTHUR: Beside the point, Morgana. But, you're saying, it might be, that a person won't get born again—  
MORGANA: Not might be. It's true. If they don't associate themselves with him. I didn't remember you, Merlin, till you were standing on my porch a moment ago.  
ARTHUR: But you recognized him?  
MORGANA: Well, no offense Merlin, but you're pretty recognizable, with your . . . everything.  
ARTHUR: Imagine that. Morgana actually _not_ trying to be offensive.  
MERLIN: It's fine. It's fine. Are you sure, though? What if-  
MORGANA: What if what? I'm right. My theory hasn't been disproven yet. And . . .  
ARTHUR: And?  
MORGANA: And up to the second you two showed up, I could feel it. This, conclusion, of some sort. Like everything was coming to an end. Not anymore of course. [Her eyes dart to Merlin, and they sit in silence. Merlin looks down, slightly green.]

ARTHUR: Merlin, are you—you alright?  
MERLIN: [Glances up from his lap finally.] Why did you tell us this, Morgana?  
ARTHUR: Valid question. I think this is the first decent conversation I've had with you since—well, since my royal clotpole days.  
MORGANA: Your what?  
MERLIN: Ignore him.

MORGANA: It's simple really. I have a favor to ask, of Merlin.  
ARTHUR: I wouldn't take her up on it.  
MORGANA: And why is what _you_ would do so important?  
ARTHUR: Honestly, Morgana, don't pretend I haven't had a keen sense of-  
MERLIN: -_Guys_-  
ARTHUR: -all these years; do you know how many times you've tried to kill me? _How many times?  
_MORGANA: And yet only your undercover-warlock-servant managed to save your ass each time-  
MERLIN: HEY!

[They both shut up.]

MERLIN: So much for a decent conversation, you two.  
ARTHUR: Excuse me. Do go on, Morgana, with whatever important thing you were saying.  
MORGANA: I was saying, to _Merlin_—that I need you to help me.  
MERLIN: Help you . . . ?  
MORGANA: [She takes a deep breath before continuing.] Please. Please, if you have any mercy at _all_, don't come looking for me next time. Just . . . leave me in peace. So I can _go_ in peace.

[Merlin swallows hard. Morgana looks pleadingly at him, no undertone of malice in her words. For once.]

MERLIN: I won't look for you. I'll try to steer clear. I . . . [He breaks off, looking down.]  
MORGANA: Thank you, Merlin.

[At the door, about to leave.]

MERLIN: Take care, Morgana. [Exits through her door.]  
MORGANA: Goodbye. Goodbye, Arthur.  
ARTHUR: [He follows, glancing at Morgana as he steps onto the porch.] See ya.

MORGANA: No. You won't.

[On the way home. It's raining.]

ARTHUR: Why are you driving so fast?  
MERLIN: Why are you complaining? Don't you usually call me a 90 year old driver?  
ARTHUR: Exactly. Now, you're fifteen above the limit.  
MERLIN: Do you have a problem with that?  
ARTHUR: Um. No?  
MERLIN: Well, then. How about we just not talk on the way back home—back to my place. I'm, trying to concentrate.

[That evening, Merlin and Arthur on the couch. Merlin's flipping channels faster than the screen can keep up.]

ARTHUR: So. You seem . . . upset.  
MERLIN: Do I now?  
ARTHUR: Yeah. I mean, what did that TV remote ever do to you?

MERLIN: Do you want to have the control? _As usual? _[Chucks remote at him.]  
ARTHUR: [Easily catches it.] Woah. Merlin. What are you on about? Is this about what Morgana said?  
MERLIN: No, Arthur, it has _nothing_ to do with that.  
ARTHUR: I feel like you're being sarcastic with me.  
MERLIN: [Jumps up off the couch.] Gahh! You're—insufferable! [Storms out.]  
ARTHUR: That's a new one.

[Arthur's clearing away their plates. Merlin is nonchalant.]

MERLIN: The chicken was good.  
ARTHUR: [Snorts.] No, it wasn't. That's not what I want to talk to you about.  
MERLIN: There's nothing to say, Arthur. I just—  
ARTHUR: Need to hear this. Because I know you're thinking it.

MERLIN: [Stands up.] Thinking what?

ARTHUR: I'm not going to stop finding you.

MERLIN: You're—what?  
ARTHUR: When I get the dream again; I won't ignore it. I promise.  
MERLIN: Arthur . . . stop it. You need to ignore it. You need to—to—to move on.  
ARTHUR: Do I, though? Why should I, really?

MERLIN: [Suddenly infuriated.] Hasn't this been what the whole mission was about? Finding out how to end your miserable, damned existence?!  
ARTHUR: [Sighs.] Maybe. I just—didn't know it would cost that.  
MERLIN: You wanted one more life with me before leaving? That's still what you'll get. You're not going to move on, not this time. Thanks to _me_.

ARTHUR: Look, I'm sorry. I was so caught up on . . . myself, I guess. I didn't stop to think whether or not this'd affect you, too.  
MERLIN: Of course it would, Arthur. It should. This is my fault, anyway.  
ARTHUR: You went to the Cailleach, I know. But she screwed us over. You didn't know she would do . . . this.  
MERLIN: Maybe I did understand. That my friends would get stuck in their lives, in living hell, over and over again, till they went crazy. Really, I think I did. I was just so overcome with selfishness, with my own fate, I didn't hesitate to completely destroy yours too.

ARTHUR: Merlin . . .  
MERLIN: Arthur, don't. This is good. This is progress. Next time, you and Morgana, _everyone_, can just live out normal lives and then—that'll be it. A normal life. With an end, not another beginning.  
ARTHUR: I don't think that's what I want, anymore.

MERLIN: I'm really tired. How about you sleep on it, kay?

[Eleven at night. There's muffled sniffling coming from Merlin's room].

ARTHUR: [Cautiously opens door.] . . . Merlin, what's . . . Merlin! Are you-  
MERLIN: [Doesn't even look up from where he sits against the bed, pillow on his knees.] _Please_ leave. Please.  
ARTHUR: No. Look—I know what I used to say about crying, but. Just, just come here.

[About ten minutes later. Merlin is quiet, head buried into Arthur's shoulder.]

MERLIN: [Lifts his head lowly.] I'm okay. You can . . . let go now.  
ARTHUR: Oh. Yeah. Sorry. [Unwinds his arms from Merlin.]  
MERLIN: It's fine. Thanks. I just . . .  
didn't want this for us.

ARTHUR: [Nudges their shoulders after a moment.] What did you want?

MERLIN: I just . . . [he sighs.] I wanted—_so _much.

[The rest pours out in a rush.] I wanted you to keep living. Rule besides Guinevere, live to see Albion the way you made it—united. I wanted there to be a good time and a place to tell you that I was a sorcerer. [He chuckles half-heartedly.] Preferably, right after you made it legal.

ARTHUR: Ha! We'll never know about _that_. [He laughs too, grabbing Merlin's cold hand.] Look, I need to say—

MERLIN: I'd be the Court Sorcerer or something fancy, but really I'd just be saving your hide again and again like I always did. [His voice gets hoarse.] We'd get old, you and Gwen would raise . . . little princelings and princesses . . . and I'd teach one of them magic and . . . [His head falls, looking away from Arthur.] That's what I wanted, when I made the deal with the Cailleach, Arthur. Not this. Never this.

ARTHUR: [Lifts Merlin's bowed head with his hand, and looks at him.] I love you, Merlin.  
MERLIN: You—what?  
ARTHUR: You know what I mean. I—I'm not going to, just, abandon you.

[Merlin squeezes his hand.]

MERLIN: I love you too, Arthur.

THE END.


End file.
